


What Stays

by deawrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adult Content, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Sibling Incest, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-04-07 11:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4262349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deawrites/pseuds/deawrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summer's upon and Dean (17) and Sam (13) have the luxury of staying with Bobby Singer for the duration of the season. Dean's ability to contain his desire for Sam is waning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Night Swimming

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 has kissing but chapter 2 will contain the sex. (updated and re-posted 9/1/2016)
> 
> Fic title inspired by "No Light" by Florence & The Machine  
> Chapter title inspired by "Night Swimming" by REM
> 
> Thank you to my wife muse for all the support. I love you! 
> 
> Questions, comments, critiques, criticisms, suggestions, requests welcome. Thank you for reading!

Sioux Falls, South Dakota- Singer Salvage

The whole, _entire_ summer break: Dean wasn't certain if he should celebrate or throw a tantrum. They were staying at Bobby's, which was more than a gift in Dean's book; but a blessing that came at a price. John Winchester was going to leave both of his teenage son's in South Dakota for the summer. Which meant Dean wouldn't be accompanying him on any of his hunting cases. Which meant that he was going to have to work doubly hard to keep his training up to date and push Sam right along with him. It also meant that come fall, Dean would still be unable to hunt as Sam would be back in school. Being only thirteen years old, Sam was far too young to be left to fend for himself on his own for more than a couple of weeks at a time. Therefore, Dean wouldn't go on a hunt again for an entire year.

 

Sure Sam was beside himself with happiness, and as adorable as his little brother's joy was, it wasn't doing Dean any professional favors. Hunters that didn't hunt were merely civilians that knew about the monsters in the dark. The only person that Dean would be helping or saving for the next year, would be Sam. Then again he was always looking out for, helping, or rescuing Sam, and had been since Sam was six months old and Dean four. Sam was Dean's number one priority no matter who asked; it was just expected of him; like breathing and survival. This was just the way Dean's world worked, and when he was honest with himself he would not wish it to be any other way.

 

At least the next three months the Winchester Boys would also be with their true father figure Bobby Singer.  Sam would have his nose buried in books when he wasn't outside running around like an idiot, and bugging Dean to finish in the salvage yard so they could go "do something fun". Dean was already a good mechanic, and every hour he spent in Bobby's salvage yard fixing cars or taking them apart he became a better one.  Working on cars was something "fun" in Dean's book, in Sam's it was just something he did at times to placate Dean's temper.

 

At the moment, neither Dean nor Sam needed to bargain with one another to get along. They happened to be in agreement that a trip to the local swimming hole, was just where they wanted to be on their first hot and muggy afternoon at Bobby's.  They grabbed a couple of towels off the bathroom shelf, a bottle of sunscreen, some snacks and drinks and took off to meet quite a number of other local teens down by the lake. There were two separate swinging ropes, lots of boom boxes playing music, some appropriated liquor, cigarettes and drugs from parent's cabinets, cars, purses, or secret hiding places. And there were plenty of bikini's, Dean's favorite aspect of going to the lake by far.

 

Sam was a little shy around girls, a tiny bit awkward at thirteen; a fact that warmed Dean's heart. His brother was going to be a late bloomer when it came to dating and that was fine by him. However, asking questions about sex and his own body, he was far advanced from his peers and always had been. From an early age Sam had asked Dean about his body and its functions, especially anything to do with his penis. At eight years old with a blush on his cheeks and a stammering question upon his lips, Sam began his investigation. By the time he was ten years old he knew about masturbation and had even experimented with it. By twelve he had been given "The Talk" from Dean, a very brutally graphic and honest one at that. Now a days Dean feared that Sam went to the Internet with his questions, but thus far if he received conflicting information or something that he didn't comprehend, he then would approach Dean. Dean still had the occasional shuddering flashback regarding their recent conversation about _'fisting'_. Just why Sam wanted to know about that Dean chalked it up to the kid's vast curiosity about everything and didn't probe further. If he were honest he didn't care to know why, and since Sam never mentioned it again Dean was perfectly happy to let the topic disappear into a bad memory.

 

At nearly eighteen years old Dean was one of the oldest kids at the swimming hole, but that didn't bother him any. He got plenty of adult attention from the college set, and if he craved that he knew which bars to go to after Sam was tucked in bed asleep. For now, however his thoughts were far away from leaving Sam. He had an arm carelessly slung over his brother's shoulders as they walked towards the sounds of blended music, laughing and shrieking kids cannon balling into the water. It was a particularly hot morning and the Boys were already sweating profusely, yet Sam was not about to shake out of Dean's embrace. He loved being close to his brother even if the heat was borderline unbearable.

 

In brief moments like this Sam could indulge the fleeting fantasy that the reason why Dean's arm was around him was because Dean was his boyfriend.  _"Yeah, we've been together about a year now,"_ Sam heard himself brag within his mind to some of the girls longingly eyeing Dean from a distance. Sam would further elaborate inside the imaginary conversation _"He'll be eighteen next month,"_ or, _"Fuck he's a tremendous kisser"_. His cheeks flushed and he cast his eyes up at his brother's profile, trying his best not to think about how perfect for kissing his brother's full lips were. While it was a horrible secret to have a crush on your older sibling, Sam couldn't imagine an existence where he wasn't in love with Dean.

 

Sam's entire life had been constructed around Dean's support, love, nurturing and discipline. Sam's world would not exist if not for Dean, and he knew in his heart of hearts that it was the same for his older brother. No one was more important to Dean than Sam was, and his actions every day proved this theory ceaselessly. Dean had even told Sam that without him to take care of, that Dean would have no purpose in life and he only wanted the best for his baby brother. So what if it was oppressively hot? As long as Dean was touching him Sam knew that everything was just as it should be.

 

It didn't take the two Winchester brothers long to find a place of their own to unfurl their towels and begin socializing with the other teens.  Sam's gaze never lingered from Dean for long as it never did in these situations. Sam was quite confident that Dean always knew exactly where Sam was at any given point; even if his back was to his baby brother; or he was away from his side. Fearless as the boys were, they took a few turns on the swing ropes, landing towards the middle of the lake before swimming around and playing an aggressive game of water tag with the others. One girl lost her bikini top in the process of the antics, and Sam found himself the unintentional hero as he snatched her top out of the water and hurried over to give it to her. She was trying to tread water with one arm and a couple of her friends mistook Sam's presence as anything but noble. He managed to wave the top at them to prove he wasn't trying to sneak a peek, but give the victim back her bathing suit.

 

The rescue garnered Sam a kiss on the cheek from the girl once they were on dry land, and a beaming smile of pride from Dean. Dripping wet Dean slung an arm around Sam's shoulders and leaned into his ear and whispered, "Nicely done Sammy. You pulled off a tiny 'kini!"

 

Sam sputtered and was about to deny that and explain the truth, when he abruptly realized that Dean was teasing him. The cheeky wink gave it away, but Sam ended up still blushing and hanging his head a little as he followed Dean to their towels. The day progressed with out any further incidents of accidental nudity, fights, or anything but teens having fun. Around two in the afternoon the kids began to clear out of the water hole, thoughts of heading home to showers, changing clothes and onto the mall, where they would hang out for the evening. As the stragglers began to thin out, Sam rose and was going to gather up his towel when Dean's hand around his wrist halted him. Their eyes met and Dean tilted his head back to the side, indicating that Sam should sit down.

 

"Why?"

 

"So we can have the place to ourselves, Sammy."

 

Sam had to admit that the prospect of having the lake and Dean alone was just too good to pass up.  He sat quietly next to his brother and waited until Dean was certain they were alone. Dean nudged Sam with his elbow, waggled his eye brows, and said two words that got Sam's heart beating up into his throat:

 

"Skinny dipping."

 

Before Sam could even pale at the suggestion, Dean was on his feet and dropping his swim trunks down to his ankles. Sam's shocked gaze raked up his brother's legs and hips to see nothing but a flaccid cock and balls dangling against pale thighs. Sam swallowed, and managed to tear his gaze away from his older brother's genitalia long enough to make eye contact. Dean was grinning like a doofus and Sam wasn't certain he could speak without his voice cracking and stuttering.

 

"W-what? You serious, man?"

 

"Obviously." Dean said, motioning to his cock with a hand. "C'mon. No one's here to see you." Dean took a couple of steps towards the lake and Sam struggled to his feet. He wasn't going to let Dean wander too far from him, especially since they were both going to be naked now.  Sam quickly stripped off his trunks and moved to fall into step with his brother.  "At'a boy, Sammy!" Dean praised, his grin enlarging.

 

Sam had to admit that there was something quite liberating about wading into the lake completely naked. It wasn't like taking a bath in the least. He felt a little debouched and giddy at being nude out in the open as they were.  Once Dean wadded out to his waist, he dove to swim away from his brother. Sam released a little gasp at the sight of Dean's perfect ass before it was submerged beneath the surface. He launched himself after Dean, kicking hard to catch up to him.

 

It was difficult to tell just how deep the water was, but at this point it didn't matter. When Dean stopped to tread water so did Sam.  "Do you trust me, Sammy?"

 

"Always." Sam replied without hesitation, gaze and expression open and fused with wonder.

 

"I scoped out this great place earlier. Perfect to be alone, but you can't access it by the banks so, we gotta swim it. Won't take long; I promise." Sam nodded in agreement and followed Dean as he swam away.

 

The place in question had a large bolder in the middle of the water, sticking up just enough above the surface to be a grand place to sun bathe. Sam was duly impressed. Dean climbed out of the water first, before reaching out a hand to haul Sam up next to him. The rock face was mostly smooth, but not so much so that their bare feet couldn't find traction. Dean lay down, elbows and forearms supporting his shoulders and head. He dropped his head back and closed his eyes as he lounged in the late afternoon sunlight.

 

Sam gulped silently taking in the gorgeous view that was his older brother. His face reddened with the fast pumping of his heartbeat. He had never seen anyone more beautiful than Dean, and Sam was fairly certain he never would either. He mimicked Dean's position minus closing his eyes and continued to gape at the naked vision beside him. In comparison he felt gangly, awkward and insignificant, but Sam knew what Dean would say to those insecurities. Dean would mention how muscular Sam was becoming, how long his legs were growing, and that soon he would be taller than Dean. He would say something about how girly Sam's eyelashes were, and how he had kissable lips: A fact that Dean seemed to forget about himself.  As a big brother, Dean always had something positive to say about Sam until the younger male didn't know what was true and what Dean only said to comfort Sam's insecurities.  Not that it mattered right now; nothing did but Dean and this moment.

 

Dean opened an eye and noticed that Sam was staring at him. "You okay, Baby Boy?"

 

Sam's stomach churned over itself; he always felt heat rise on the back of his neck when Dean called him that. It was sexual in it's way, and he couldn't believe that Dean had never questioned that fact.  Sam shrugged and wet his lips. "Nothin' just... It's weird. I mean being naked out here. I like it but, it's just different."

 

"I know. That's why it's so great." Dean smiled, closing his eyes and turning his face up to the sun once more. "Air drying is the best." He paused and turned to look at Sam, opening his eyes. "The feeling of the sun on your dick? Come on, it doesn't get any better than that, right?"

 

Sam couldn't help but laugh, the action defusing some of his tension. "Yeah, I guess. Never thought about it that way." He turned his face upward and closed his eyes as well. "It is nice." He decided after a few seconds of silence.

 

Dean stared at his brother's profile, his own smile vanishing.  There was a beauty about his younger brother that wasn't something he could quantify with words. Dean knew he would give his life without hesitation to save Sam; he knew without question that he would fight any monster, human or not; that tried to harm his little Sammy.  His entire life was taking care of, and raising the intelligent, loving, heroic, strong, capable, surprise that was Sam.  While Dean felt a sense of pride at the admission, he also experienced a desperate, blinding agony because of it. Sam was getting older and soon enough he would tell Dean that he didn't need him anymore, that he could take care of himself. Then what use would Dean have in his younger sibling's life?

 

One day Sam would meet a girl and get married. They would have children and Dean would see Sam even less and less. They might get together for the holidays, but soon they would be skipping years in between those reunions until they never visited together. No matter how much Sam would believe that Dean was in his life, it would be a shadow in comparison to what Dean was to him right now.  Dean looked away, no longer able to consider the future and how painful it would be for him. He felt Sam shift a little next to him, and he kept his profile to his brother.

 

Sam noted the tension tugging hard at Dean's features. How could he not? Dean was not a brooder, or someone who got lost in their own thoughts as a habit; something was wrong and Sam felt the atmosphere shift around them.

 

"Dean?" Dean slowly shifted his gaze to his little brother's. "What's wrong?"

 

"Nothin'." Dean lied, granting Sam a gentle smile and touching his forearm with a calloused hand. "Just feeling the sun on my skin. S'okay."

 

Sam sat up, pulling his knees towards him and encircled his arms around the top of his shins.  "You know, I can always tell when you're lying to me, Dean." Sam tilted his head in Dean's direction. "Tell me."

 

Annoyance flared upon Dean's expression. "Sam," He warned, cutting off the name short of the affectionate 'Sammy' he preferred to use.  Dean sighed and withdrew his touch, motioning to the rock they were on and the lake. "Do you not see where we are? Dude, we're in nature, no one around to bother us, nothing here that wants to eat or kill us, and no responsibilities hanging over our heads. Can you please, _please_ , just let the moment be what it is? Nothing's wrong that you have to worry about, okay?"

 

Sam's cheek twitched and he looked away from his brother and into the brown water. "Excuse me for caring." Sam sulked with a shrug. "I just thought if you talked to me it wouldn't feel so bad or whatever." Sam shifted his gaze back to Dean's. "I was only trying to help."

 

Dean sat up and put his right arm around Sam, and pulled his shoulder to be tucked beneath his chin. "It's all right, Sammy. I was just thinking about when I'm old and gray, which; is never gonna happen because I plan on dying young to leave a devilishly handsome corpse."

 

Sam laughed a little and rolled his eyes. "Oh, like you're so hot now, right?" He shook his head. "You're a real dog."

 

"You better take that back, Baby Boy." Dean warned playfully. He pulled Sam tightly against his chest so he could use his opposite hand to give Sam a noogie. "I'm a freakin' Adonis over here."

 

"If he were pig instead of a Phoenician demi-god." Sam huffed, flailing his hands to attempt to knock Dean's hand off of his head.

 

"You're such a nerd. Of course you would know that." Dean half praised and half teased, stroking Sam's hair and resting his chin upon his younger sibling's crown. Sam stilled in his arms and hugged him, ear pressed against his chest to listen to Dean's heartbeat.  "Sometimes I think you know everything."

 

Sam closed his eyes and his cheek felt so warm against Dean's chest. He could not only smell his older brother's familiar scent, but now in this close proximity he could scent the most secret of fragrances from between Dean's legs.

 

"I do."

 

Dean placed a couple of kisses upon the crown of Sam's skull and rubbed his check against his hair for a few seconds of silence. Sam hoped that Dean would never move; would never end their embrace so he could keep smelling the spicy musk that was now his favorite scent in the entire world.

 

"Yeah, you do." Dean agreed, his whisper sounding like it lived within Dean's chest. Sam couldn't help but smile and he rested a flat palm on Dean's stomach.  There was nothing more to say so the brother's remained in silence for a significant period. Finally; and with great reluctance; Dean released Sam from his embrace and smoothed out the younger teen's hair with his hands.

 

Sam smiled affectionately at him and watched as Dean returned to his previous position, eyes closed to the sunlight.

 

Dean loved touching Sam, which was problematic for him. When Sam was just a little boy any and all touching from his older sibling was good, it grounded Sam and reassured him of his safety in Dean's presence. Now that Sam was a teenager amidst puberty, previous rules of touching were altered by the flip of Sam's hormone switch.  How Dean longed to touch Sam quite differently than he used to. He wanted to kiss his brother, fondle him, caress him until Sam's body shuddered with orgasm upon orgasm.  When Sam's body started changing from childhood into a teenager, Dean realized he thought of Sam less as his little brother/son; growing into the person that was maturing into a man; and Dean wanted nothing more than to love him romantically.

 

Dean knew it was sick what he was feeling. So disturbed by his feelings, he had even looked up the clinical words in hopes of finding a definition for what to call his attraction to Sam. Two words jumped off the screen at him:  Hebephilia and Ephebophilia. Hebephilia was an attraction exclusively to preteens and teens from the ages of eleven to fourteen, while someone who was ephebophilic was exclusively attracted to teens in the fifteen to nineteen-year-old range.  Both clinical definitions made Dean want to bleach his eyes and scrub his skin raw with steel wool in the shower.  He was disturbed, disgusting, perverted and depraved. There was little he could do to prevent himself from corrupting Sam if he didn't alter his behavior towards him instantaneously.

 

Which meant no more touching. Dean had failed spectacularly at curbing his desire to physically express his affection for Sam. He craved Sam's companionship, close proximity, and his hands literally began shaking if he attempted not to touch Sam on impulse. He physically ached for his little brother in a way that he had never longed for anyone.  In order to combat his desires, Dean threw himself headlong at older girls or women just to defuse some of the pent up sexual need that bloomed within his veins with every breath Sam took.  If he spent less time admonishing himself for lusting after a kid he had basically raised, he would have realized he held no other young teen in the same regard as he did Sam. Eleven to fifteen-year-old girls did not ring his bell. In fact, Dean preferred college age girls as they were more experienced with sex, and were more likely not to get attached after a sexual encounter with him.

 

Dean also had his eye caught by a few males his own age and older, but he rarely sought male company out.  The true homosexual experiences he had engaged in were giving blow jobs in bar alley's for money, when John Winchester had left his children with too little when he left on a hunt. It was a common occurrence, both by his father and for Dean's tricks. He was not about to let Sam starve nor not have a roof over his head at any point whatsoever. It just wasn't in Dean's DNA to allow his younger brother to suffer that injustice.  Thus far, Dean had never shared anything past oral sex with another man, and he figured that some day he might indulge just to see what the fuss was all about. Yet so far the only male he wanted to touch, kiss, possess, and fuck was Sam. Like the girls, he was not attracted to males the text book age range in all the psychology research he had conducted.

 

In that sense, Dean knew he wasn't a true hebephiliac or ephebophiliac, but he could not argue that he wasn't fucked up beyond repair sexually.  He didn't know how much longer he would be able to maintain his platonic affections, and when he felt weak he just separated himself from Sam. This always sent Sam into a sulk and petulant begging mode, to plea with Dean not to be angry with him. Why Sam assumed he had done something to infuriate Dean enough to remove his 'love', was beyond him. The opposite was true; it was because Sam made it impossible not to love him too much, that Dean withdrew. But how to communicate that to Sam's innocent mind without making himself out to be a complete monster?

 

So Dean said nothing, altered nothing, and prayed that he'd be strong enough to resist. Maybe bringing Sam to a secluded place where they could be nude and isolated from other people, was not the brightest situation he had ever placed them in. But it was one of the nicest, and Dean wasn't about to look the gift of Sam's naked body along side of his own for granted.  While his eyes appeared to be completely closed, he had them slit open just enough to be able to surreptitiously observe Sam's body.  Yeah, Dean Winchester was one sick son of a bitch.  Yet apparently, the only person he was a threat too was his kid brother; his little Sammy.

 

By the time four p.m. rolled around, the boys were finished with their private lake party and had made the hike back to the salvage yard.  Dean showered first and made dinner, while Sam took a turn to rinse off. Bobby was quite pleased that Dean took the incentive to cook, as he had previously lamented to the boys that he was 'balls bad' in the kitchen.  Having stayed with Bobby beforehand they agreed to leave the food preparation to Dean.

 

As the three wolfed down their dinner, they talked about their days and there was quite a bit of jovial exhanges all in all. Once dinner was consumed, Dean followed Bobby out to the living room library to watch a game on television while Sam cleaned up the kitchen. He joined them on the couch seating himself between them, his body only touching Dean's, as he sat just a tad closer to his brother than Bobby. After the game was almost over, Sam excused himself to go upstairs and read in his and Dean's room, while Dean forced himself to stay on the couch next to Bobby.  What he ached to do was run up the stairs after Sam, pin him to the mattress of the queen bed they shared; and pleasure his young body until Sam's brain liquefied and dibbled out his ears.  After countless minutes of watching Dean, Bobby frowned and reached out to hit a hand down upon Dean's thigh, causing the seventeen-year-old to nearly jump out of his skin.

 

"Criminy Boy, what is it with you tonight?  You're fidgeting like all heck. Should get the bug spray in case we're infested with something other than just you being an idjit!"

 

Dean stilled immediately and looked at his host. "Sorry, Bobby." He apologized sincerely. "It's been a long day and I guess I just feel like I didn't get anything accomplished." It amazed Dean just how his depravity regarding Sam, had spread to his ability to spout lies to Bobby without feeling even remote guilt.  At this point it was all self-preservation, and Dean wondered if he would feel guilt at a later time and remind himself that he was still human and not a complete monster.

 

Bobby's gaze narrowed and he took a second to answer with a grunt. "Well then, go out to the garage. I put a new front fender on a Camry and it needs painting. That should keep you occupied for at least an hour." Bobby hooked a thumb in indication of the salvage yard garage. "Keys are on the pegs; number 3. Car's not in the paint shack so you're gonna have to drive it in."

 

Dean felt his chest clutch in disappointment at being given the work direction. He wanted to go upstairs and lay down in bed next to his little brother while Sam read, but that was far too dangerous at the moment. Bobby was right, working was just the alternative Dean required to redirect his disgusting, sexual thoughts about Sam.  Dean nodded in acceptance and rose to stand, tugging his jeans at the top of his knees to straighten the pant legs that had ridden up a little from his ankles when he sat down.  Sam wasn't the only one that was going to need some new clothes before summer turned into fall.

 

"Hey," Bobby said as Dean walked past him towards the front door. "don't forget to wear a mask would ya? I don't want to have to explain to Sam that his brother's dead because he was too vain to wear one."

 

Dean allowed the accusation to stand as he grumbled, "Yeah, yeah." before heading out into the early night. The mosquitoes were out in full force. He slapped a couple on his neck and arm on his way towards the garage.  He pulled on a pair of coveralls to go over his clothes and grabbed the keys Bobby had mentioned off the wall board. In a matter of minutes, he had the car parked, door of the paint shack closed and the protective chemical mask hanging around his throat as he tested the car color against the paint he had in the paint sprayer.  If Bobby was right about one thing it was that for a little while at least, Dean's thoughts would be about everything other than his Sammy.

 

Sam had only been reading about twenty minutes when he lowered the book onto his stomach and listened. He could faintly hear the television down stairs if he strained his hearing, and the occasional scuff of the desk chair wheels on the wood flooring.  Bobby was doing research or salvage yard paper work. That meant Dean was no longer in the house. Testing the theory, Sam rose up from the bed and went directly to the bedroom window. Careful not to press against the screen, he glanced out towards the garage and saw lights on inside it.  Abruptly feeling that he should be with Dean and not holed up in the bedroom reading, Sam walked to the bedroom door and flipped the light switch off and headed down the stairs.  Sure enough, Bobby was at the desk with reading glasses on and the television droning in the background.

 

"Dean outside?" Sam asked already certain of the answer.

 

Bobby responded in the affirmative, and mentioned that he had had enough of the _'idjit's ants in the pants'_ and sent Dean away to paint.  Sam softly let Bobby know that he was going out to hang out with his brother, and Bobby groused about wearing a chemical mask and Sam promised that he would.

 

The walk to the garage at the back of the salvage yard was a little creepy at night, but it wasn't so much so that it would scare Sam; yet just appear so different in the light of day. His hunting training made him cautious but not paranoid. When he reached the paint shack he took one of the chemical masks from the work case outside of it, and knocked on the door. He didn't expect Dean to hear him but knocked anyway. A few seconds later he had the mask on and entered the Quonset hut, giving the car a wide margin as he walked over to Dean.

 

Seeing Sam, Dean's breath caught in his chest for a split second and he turned off the paint mister and pulled his mask down from off of his face. He motioned at Sam to open the entry doors. Dean still left on the industrial fans built into the back end of the hut. There was little chance of them suffocating while he wasn't painting.

 

Sam raised his mask up and off, holding it in his hands.  "Would it bother you if I just hung out here for a while?"

 

"No." Dean's heartbeat was racing. "I thought you wanted to read."

 

Sam shrugged and moved to Dean's side.  "I dunno, I was just thinking about you and-" Sam permitted the explanation to die on his tongue and shrugged once more, as he looked up to make eye contact with his brother.  "Thanks for going to the lake with me today. I really liked that private spot you found. Can we go there again soon?"

 

"Sure." Dean replied checking the paint sprayer just to keep his hands busy and his eyes off of Sam.  "It was a good first day here."

 

"Yeah." Sam agreed with a bright smile. Dean's heart melted upon seeing it. He loved Sam's life light and treasured it as the most pure and precious element in the universe. "I wanted to ask you something. S'kinda personal."

 

 _Fisting_! Oh god what if Sam was going to ask him about something sexual like fisting? Dean wasn't certain he could handle a prolonged conversation about sex, without surrendering to his base needs and confess something he would immediately regret. Or just as terrible, what if Sam asked him about a sexual act Dean had never heard of before? How could he admit to ignorance when Sam's gentle green gold eyes were pleading for guidance? Feeling trapped, Dean elected to make light of the situation in hopes of defusing the ticking time bomb that had become his self restraint.

 

"This another one of your web search results, Baby Boy?"  _Why_ did Dean just call him that? The title sounded super sexually charged, and it left his throat dry and stomach knotted over itself and around the base of his spine.

 

Sam laughed a little too, blushing as he broke eye contact and shook his head. "No, nothing like that." He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and locked his gaze with Dean's. "I wanted to say something about a really important topic to me, but... I'm kinda nervous about saying it." Sam bit his bottom lip to illustrate the point he was trying to make and he shifted in his stance. He set the chemical mask down upon the tarp wrapped hood of the car and his shoulders rounded forward as if he were trying to appear smaller than he actually was.  Sam felt his heartbeat thundering in his ears, and he took a deep, silent, visible breath mustering what existed of his courage. He felt as if he was about to faint dead away.

 

"Dean, I think... I think that I. I like," Sam paused, and felt his resolve shaken as Dean's soft, green eyes pleaded with him to know that it was all right for him to speak.  "I think I like both girls _and_ boys."  There, he had managed to push the words out into the atmosphere between them. Dean was utterly silent and still staring at Sam, and heat prickled Sam's face: How did Dean know there was still more to confess? The expression on the older teen's face prompted further explanation naturally. "But I think. No, that's not true. I _know_ that I like _boys_ more than I. You know, do girls." Sam felt like his body was going to shake apart with the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins. "I just need you to know that cause... you're my best friend and I need to talk about it sometimes."

 

Son of a bitch Sammy was trying to unwittingly kill him. His last words made Dean feel like his damn heart was going to explode out of his chest, even as his brain pan caved inward. Sam liked boys as well as girls. That meant if Dean ever did breakdown and touch him that Sam would only be disgusted by the incest factor, and not completely unhinged by such a homoerotic advance. Inwardly Dean blanched at his own avarice; how could he feel that it was _good_ that only incest would disgust Sam? Wasn't sexually molesting anyone still a terrible crime? In Sam's mind everything was so different and it was a world that Dean knew he'd never comprehend. Yet staring down into his little brother's expression at this very moment in time, he knew that Sam was just seeking acceptance from him; nothing more. And certainly nothing sexual.

 

Dean placed an arm around Sam's shoulder, his hand gripping his younger sibling's arm tenderly; and made certain his expression was filled with nothing but adoration for Sam. What he said next mattered most in his little brother's world.  "Aw Sammy, don't you know? It doesn't matter to me who you fall in love with, or just take to bed for a night. I just want you to be happy and safe. That's all. And anyone you-" Dean's breath hitched for a split second, and he felt like he was light headed and about to pass out but he forced the words past his lips. " _love_ , will be someone that I'll love too."  Dean punctuated his exposition by placing a kiss upon the crown of Sam's head. "S'ok Baby Boy." He whispered, shutting his eyes to clear them of the agony he was feeling in his heart.  He had told Sam the truth about everything except loving the person that Sam ended up with; that person Dean would barely tolerate because he or she had stolen Sam from him for good. Dean didn't want to think about Sam being married; the pain was crippling and he kissed Sam's hair, smelling the shampoo and grounding himself in his brother's delicious scent underneath.

 

Relief flooded through Sam and he relaxed fully in Dean's embrace. He threw his arms around Dean's waist and tucked his head beneath his big brother's chin.  Why had he been so afraid to say the words? Dean wasn't disgusted or angry with him; Dean loved Sam and honestly just wanted him to be safe and happy. The words smoldered in Sam's chest cavity as emotion caught in his throat.

 

"I love you." Sam breathed, hugging Dean tightly.

 

"I know." Dean joked of the Han Solo quote from 'The Empire Strikes Back'.

 

Sam laughed. "You're such a jerk."

 

"I know." Dean proclaimed instead of teased, and both of his arms encircled Sam as well. "But I'm a jerk who loves you more than anything else in the universe. Never forget _that_."

 

"I won't." Sam vowed feeling tears prick from underneath his eye lids. "Promise."

 

And really Dean couldn't ask for anything more than that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The window was open in the bedroom to the right of the bed. There was an old, metal, desk fan on the lazy boy dresser at the foot of the bed, and a standing, oscillating fan on the left side of the bed. The breeze both fans created mostly blew across the boys’ stomachs. It was oppressively hot, the crickets were too damn loud, and Dean was concerned that a tear in the window screen would allow mosquitoes inside, to dine upon him and Sam during the stifling night. Dean lay upon the bed in nothing but his boxer briefs and he was coated in a sheen of perspiration. The top sheet had been kicked to the end of the bed, and Dean couldn't find a comfortable way to lay that didn't have the skin of his limbs sticking to him somehow.  He settled for laying on his back, hands up over his head, fingers against the wall as the bed frame had no head nor base board.

 

Beside him, Sam lay on his stomach; wearing only long pair of boxers that had cycled through Dean's life first. There was no front slit and the fabric had once been white with thin, navy blue stripes. Now the white fabric was a dingy gray from numerous washings, and the blue stripes worn to near invisibility in some areas. Sam had pushed his pillow mostly up against the wall, his chin and cheek laying on a corner of it, one arm stretched out above him, the other arm rest away from his right side. Sam sighed despondently and stared at Dean's profile.

 

"Can you sleep, Dean?"

 

Dean looked at his baby brother's face, some of the moonlight from outside shining through upon his features, making him look even younger than his thirteen years.  "No. S'too damn hot."

 

Sam smiled with a slight nod. "I wish we could go back to the lake. The water might not be cold but it's better than being all sticky like this."

 

Dean smirked and reached down with his left hand to push Sam's damp bangs away from his sweaty forehead. "There's probably something in the dark hunting. Do you really want to risk your life for a late night swim?"

 

Sam frowned. "I don't think there's anything out there, Dean." Sam attempted to convince him there was little to fear.  "I mean, Bobby lives here and if some creepy, crawly was at the lake he would have killed it by now. He never would have let us go there today if it was dangerous." Sam pulled his lips into his mouth, his green gold eyes shining wet in the dim light nearly appearing black.  "We could swim to that rock and see what the moon feels like on our dicks."

 

Dean grunted and turned his face back to the ceiling. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Killing him; Sam was definitely killing him in little increments with every word that fell from his tempting lips.  "Sam," Dean whined in soft warning elongating his brother's name. "We can't sneak out; Bobby needs to know he can trust us."

 

"So we tell him where we're going." Sam offered placing his hand upon Dean's bare shoulder. He watched Dean's arm drop away from his face and he met his big brother's gaze and smiled gently at him. "He's probably still up. Come on, Dean. Please? I'm hot and really want to go swimming with you. _Please_?"

 

Dean's jaw tensed. It was unfair just how beautiful Sam was; how Dean's heart ached longing to give in to any request his baby brother made of him. It wasn't that he wanted to indulge Sam's every whim because he was trying to be the 'fun' parental figure in Sam's life, nor did he yearn to surrender because he was bargaining for Sam's continued favor. The reason Dean was so willing to cave, was because he loved his little Sammy so much that any happiness he could facilitate for the youngster he would sacrifice everything to do so. And why not? What pleasure or happiness did Sam achieve out of their transient life? He had never known a home, his mother, or the man John Winchester had been before the yellow eyed demon came and burned their lives to ashes. Therefore, any concession Dean could make to the boy's desires he granted tenfold.

 

Dean reached across his chest with his right hand and placed it over Sam's hand upon his left shoulder. "Sammy, we haven't even been here forty-eight hours yet. Do you really want to push our luck with Bobby so soon?"

 

Sam's fingers tightened upon Dean's flesh beneath his big brother's hand.  "It's not manipulating, it's asking. And how do we know what our limits are if we don't investigate?" Sam yanked his hand out from under Dean's, and pushed himself up from the mattress. "I'll go since you're too chicken too."

 

"Hey!" Dean snapped in indignation. "Lay back down. If anyone's gonna ask him it'll be me." Before he realized what he was doing, Dean swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. "You stay here, Squirt." Annoyed and grumbling to himself, Dean was half way down the dark staircase before he realized that Sam had completely manipulated him to be the sacrificial requestor. "Son of a-!" Dean groaned in protest and walked towards the light on in the living room library.

 

Bobby had a bottle of scotch out on the desk in front of him and a glass. The old radio against the wall on a shelf was playing blues music low, and he looked up as he heard Dean huff as he entered the room. Dean stood before the desk and crossed his arms over his chest, realizing that maybe he should have put on some pants before barging down the stairs to confront the middle aged man.

 

"Something wrong up there sexy?"

 

Dean rolled his eyes, a blush tinting his cheeks as he was completely embarrassed by Bobby's notice of his basic nudity. "Yeah, it's hot as Satan's butt crack, and Sammy's got it in his head that we should go to the lake. I said no; because who knows what all is out there tonight. But he insists you've killed everything in a fifty-mile radius so, we're good to go?"

 

Bobby sat back in the office chair, his forearms setting on the arms of the chair as he leveled his gaze at Dean. He stared at the teen in silence for several beats and Dean shifted in discomfort, the red of his cheeks spreading to his throat and chest. Dean opened his arms as if to say, _'Well_?' and cleared his throat tentatively after several minutes when Bobby hadn't responded.

 

"So am I right, or is Sammy?"

 

For several more seconds Bobby gazed at Dean until the seventeen-year-old was nearly vibrating out of his skin. He shrugged. "Go. Make sure you take a couple of silver knives, glocks, emergency flash lights, flares, batteries, extra ammo a coil of rope and first aid kit with you though."  Bobby paused and looked back down at the large book he had been flipping through when Dean interrupted his research. "Got short range radio's charged by the toaster. Better grab one of them too so when you tell me you're on your way home I don't take your heads off with my sawed off."

 

Dean blinked a few times. "Seriously?"

 

Bobby raised his gaze to Dean's. "Yeah. Radio in. I can get jumpy about sounds in this old house at night too you know."

 

"No, I meant..." Dean motioned to Bobby in indication of his permission to go night swimming and then back up the stair case. "Uh, okay. We'll pack up and go."

 

Bobby waved Dean away with an uninterested hand and returned to his reading.  "Don't let Sam drown out there."

 

"Of course not." Dean snipped incredulously before turning to retreat up the stairs. The tips of his ears were burning by now, and he hoped that the blush would fade before Sam would notice it and tease him for being intimidated by Bobby Singer.

 

Sam was quite excited by the news, and jumped up and down on the bed a few times on all fours before he rose up and quickly found a pair of jeans to pull on. Dean got dressed too and began to gather the supplies they needed, adding to the back pack a canteen of fresh water, two dry towels, a couple of energy bars, and a large garbage bag. One could never be over prepared and with Sam's life in his hands, and Dean was not about to take unnecessary risks.

 

As they made their way through the forest towards the lake, Sam could barely contain his excitement, his flashlight beam jerking around furiously while Dean's remained steadfast before them. He shouldered the back pack while he left Sam completely unencumbered. The teen was babbling a mile a minute and finally Dean couldn't keep his laughter back any longer. He called Sam over to his side and placed an arm around him, holding the younger male tightly against him, feeling the energy vibrate out of him and against Dean.

 

"Chill out a little, Baby Boy." Dean teased, affectionately holding Sam securely tucked under his left shoulder. "And stay with me. You're too far ahead and I don't want you to trip over anything."

 

"Says the guy who just stumbled." Sam teased of Dean's abrupt misstep.  "What do ya wanna do? Take me down with you?"

 

"Shut up you bitch." Dean laughed at his own clumsiness.  A few minutes later they reached the banks of the lake where they had been earlier that day. Dean maneuvered Sam further along the bank in the direction of the deserted place they had sunbathed at nude. When their real-estate ran out they stripped out of their clothes placing them and the back pack in the large garbage bag Dean had brought. His plan was to swim them and their gear out to their rock and back to the shore again on the return trip.  In Sam's eyes his big brother was a genius, and as the flash lights they held were water proof, they easily made it to their destination.

 

First the garbage bag and flash lights went up upon the rock, and thusly unencumbered the two teens engaged in a fun game of dodge dunk, where if one caught the other, the captured party was dunked beneath the surface of the water.  Sam was giddy with the fact that they were swimming naked at night, just the two of them and the night was no longer so oppressive with it's heat. The water wasn't much cooler than the ambient air, but it was refreshing on their skin, and being nude at night was an even more depraved sensation then it had been during the daylight.

 

They tussled in the water grabbing any available purchase in an attempt to dominate one another. They were both breathless and panting before Dean called a truce and hauled himself and then Sam up onto the rock. It was cooler than the water and a slight breeze chilled the beading water upon their naked flesh. And for a while Dean hadn't felt overly stimulated by his throbbing need for Sam. For the duration of their water antics Dean had merely been Sam's older brother without the caveat of shame and desire soiling the wonderful moment.  The unexpected liberation from pain infused Dean with hope, and he felt near to bursting at just being in Sam's presence. His gaze abruptly registered the light in Sam, shining blindingly bright and radiating out over Dean's weak flesh. The vision rendered him mute and incapacitated against the intensity of his emotions.  Now sitting on the rock dripping wet and naked, Dean's smile began to fade as he became hyper aware of Sam's close proximity.

 

Sam was grinning like a fool and he was happier than he had been in a long time. His joy was pure, unadulterated and he looked up at the stars in the sky, as his chest heaved up and down.  "I could get used to this." He praised, rubbing some of the water off the length of his arms with his hands. He looked back at Dean and realized his brother was staring at him intensely. "D-ean?"

 

"You're so fucking beautiful." Dean exhaled the words barely above a whisper. "Jesus, Sammy." Dean gasped out. "I love you so goddamn much, you don't even know."

 

Shocked by his brother's words Sam's lips remained parted, his jaw went slack, and his brow furrowed in confusion just above the bridge of his nose. "Know? Know what?"  It didn't even sound like Sam's own voice asking the question. The person who had spoken was so far away, perhaps back at the bank line or maybe in the woods, but certainly not here with him and Dean.

 

Dean's expression crumbled as if Sam had threatened his life rather than asked a simple question. "Know how much I love you." Dean explained, reaching out with trembling fingers to ground his hand upon Sam's left cheek.  "Sammy..." Dean had barely spoken his baby brother's name and he surged forward and covered Sam's mouth with his own. His hand was solid upon Sam's cheek, Dean's fingers fanned out along his throat and reaching into his damp hair.

 

Sam felt Dean's tongue lapping at the back of his throat, tangling frantically with his own. He made a surprised noise and reached up to grab Dean's wrist intending to pull his hand away from his face. By then however, Dean's opposite hand had fisted in his hair and he was dragged closer to the furnace heat of his big brother's nakedness.  Sam wasn't certain just how it happened, but he now was in Dean's arms, turned awkwardly to press his chest against his brother's, legs off one side of Dean's lap.

 

Sam was being devoured in kiss upon searing kiss and he surrendered completely, not caring if he ever breathed again. He could only taste Dean, could only smell his brother's damp flesh, and feel himself cradled in unyielding and demanding arms. His heartbeat was thundering in his ears, and Sam felt sick but elated all at the same instant. Dean was far too intense though, the consuming kisses a little terrifying, and Sam attempted to draw back. That only caused Dean to push forward to compensate and hold Sam still in a vice like grip. Sam began to panic slightly, and he brought the palms of his hands to Dean's chest and shoved hard against the solid block of muscle, their lips tore apart, Sam gasped for air and one of his hands clenched into a fist.

 

Dean felt the fist hit him hard in one pectoral and soothed his fingers over Sam's throat, and back through his little brother's hair.  "It's okay, Baby Boy." Dean comforted, pressing his forehead to Sam's as the younger teen panted for air. "What's wrong?"

 

"S-stop! Just stop a minute!" Sam urged, still attempting to push backward in Dean's unyielding embrace.

 

Dean raised his head, his gaze wet and expression remorseful. "Sammy, I-I'm sorry-"

 

"No." Sam's voice trembled a little, and now that he was able to pull back in Dean's hold his fear dissipated a bit. "You were trying to swallow me alive. Just, please. Give me a minute okay? I want to enjoy this."

 

Sam's fist unclenched and Dean realized that both of his brother's palms were stroking his chest now instead of pushing away. "You-" Dean blinked as his brain short circuited and he was barely aware of what he wanted to say next. It took a beat or two and really seeing the calm and affectionate expression upon Sam's features to jolt him back into the moment. "This is okay? That I'm kissing you?"

 

Sam's smile widened and he pressed his forehead against Dean's, and pulled at the short strands of hair at the back of his neck. "Only if you're in love with me." Sam informed, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth with his teeth. "Are you?"

 

"God yes." Dean barely exhaled, his eyes closed, his body slumping and weak at his relief.

 

Sam's arms went completely around his neck, and they hugged as the remainder of Sam's fear melted into the night, as he relaxed completely in Dean's arms.  "Shhh." Sam soothed, feeling Dean's hands hot and broad upon his back. "It's okay. I've got you."

 

Sam could have sworn he felt the warmth of a tear hit his shoulder blade when Dean whispered back, "Stop stealing my lines. I'm the big brother here, not you."

 

Sam smiled as he now felt Dean's plush lips press against the top of his shoulder. "Yeah? But I'm the smarter one so, I'll say whatever I feel like."

 

Dean had never heard anything that sounded better to him than his little brother's words of love.  He hugged Sam in a bone crushing embrace, and they both laughed softly in giddy relief.  They were no longer afraid and Dean couldn't be happier; Sammy; his little Sammy was actually his now.


	2. What Fades Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Dean has professed his desire Sam trades in his V card.

They remained at the lake for sometime, kissing and star gazing.  Sam had never felt so dizzy with over sensitized sensations in his entire life.  He couldn't imagine that Dean could ever be more perfect than he was that night, cradling Sam in his arms.  They couldn't keep their mouths off of one another, their hands roaming gently in exploration, as their kisses broke and reformed. Panting breathlessly, they would settle wordlessly into one another and watch the sky and listen to the sounds of the night around them. Only when the temperature began to drop did Dean suggest that they break the spell of their solitude upon the rock and swim back to the banks, dress and go home.

 

Dean shouldered the back pack on one shoulder, the other arm he had around Sam pulling the younger teen close to his body. Sam kept both arms around Dean for as long as he could, in no rush to get back to the salvage yard, or the heat of their shared bedroom. A part of him felt that now that he and Dean were back at Bobby's, their intimate connection was severed somehow. It wasn't until Dean climbed into bed completely nude, that Sam realized how wrong he had been. Sam's grin lit up the room as far as Dean was concerned, and all he did was open his arms before Sam fell against him.

 

Dean chuckled softly, silencing as Sam's mouth gripped his own in an enthusiastic kiss. Once the kiss severed, Dean stroked Sam's hair back from his smiling features and he whispered, "We have to be super quiet, Sammy. Not that I don't want to hear how good everything makes you feel, because I do. But Bobby-"

 

"I know." Sam interrupted, running a hand over Dean's collar bone. "And what makes you think I'm the only one that needs the warning?"

 

Dean shook his head, pride infused within his gaze. "Don't you have a sassy mouth."

 

"It accompanies my sassy ass." Sam grinned, shifting his body against Dean's to press his hardening cock against his older brother's hip. "Wanna kiss that too?"

 

"You little-" Dean allowed the insult to slip away into silence and he captured Sam's mouth with his own. He ran a hand down Sam's spine, to the small of his back, and smacked one of the rounded butt cheeks hard.

 

Sam flinched at the sharp snap of flesh on the outside of his underwear, but did not break the kiss until he was ready too. "If you wanna do that we have to wait until Bobby leaves. I'll be too loud."

 

Dean's mouth watered at the thought, seeing Sam's clear sexual arousal within his gaze.  So, his Baby Boy had a little stripe of kink running in him; that was good to know; and Dean couldn't wait to explore it with him. For now, he realized they should keep the touches light, and concentrate on kissing. That way they were less likely to moan aloud and wake up their host.  Dean stroked Sam's hair, pressing his fingertips into the scalp affectionately, and he could have sworn he heard Sam purring at the sensation.

 

Sam loved kissing his brother; nothing made him feel more whole than the taste of Dean upon his tongue, and the intimacy they now shared. Kissing was nice, but he was a sexually precocious youngster that required more than just chaste activities. He slid one of his hands in between him and Dean, seeking the older teen's cock. Dean startled a little at the brush of Sam's fingertips, but he did nothing to stop the touches. Tentative at first, they grew in confidence, and soon Sam's thumb was making lazy circles upon the head of Dean's cock, spreading precum around the first inch of the circumcised organ.

 

Dean moaned inside of Sam's mouth and thrust his hips up into his little brother's hand. Sam severed the kiss and grinned slyly down into Dean's face.  "How long do I have to wait until you put this," he tugged gently upon Dean's cock. "up me?"

 

The abruptness of the question shocked Dean far more than he considered it would. The fact that Sam was asking for this was mind blowing enough. He was thirteen; how long had he been contemplating this situation between them? Dean shook his head to dislodge his prudish reservations, and stroked a thumb up Sam's left cheek bone.

 

"Not tonight, Sa-"

 

"Why not?" Sam interrupted, stilling his caressing hand.  "I'm ready, Dean. I want to do this. I love you."

 

"I know Sammy, but-"

 

"But?" Sam demanded, elongating the word his expression chiding and focused.

 

"We need lubrication."

 

Sam frowned. "We both have lube. Want me to get mine or yours?"

 

Dean sighed, and pressed a hand down over his eyes. Of course Sam had lube; had he stolen it? Or had he shyly made the purchase with a candy bar and bottled water at the drug store? The thought made him cringe internally; that it actually mattered to Dean how and why Sam had personal lubrication in his belongs.  The thirteen-year-old was going to be the death of him he was more than convinced. Dean hadn't had such as graphic of a conversation with the college girls he hooked up with, then he now was engaged in with Sam. Where did the kid honestly come up with half of the shit that came out of his mouth?

 

"Sam-"

 

Sam grabbed Dean's wrist and pulled it down from his eyes. "Dean." He huffed, just as annoyed as his older brother had sounded. "You love sex. I want to give it to you. What's your problem?"

 

And there was the question. Just what _was_ making Dean hesitate?  He opened his eyes and met Sam's seeking expression and felt his resolve fold even further. "I just didn't-" He paused realizing that what he was about to blurt would sound ludicrous coming from him, and Sam was bound to draw unnecessary attention to it. And how could Sam not? He was a little brother after all and always in need of material to tease Dean with. Dean was quite prolific with the material he discovered to cut Sam with, so every once and a while a little brother had to seize an opportunity right when it arose.

 

"What?" Sam soothed shifting on Dean's chest a little, his hands flat upon Dean's breast plate.

 

"I-" Dean looked away and took a breath for courage, sick with himself for feeling the way he did. He turned back to his little brother and mumbled, "I just didn't think we'd jump straight into fucking. I wanted to take my time with you." He shrugged and fell silent, watching the corners of Sam's mouth twitch but remain closed in a smile.

 

"That's," Sam paused and stroked his right palm over Dean's nipple. "really sweet-" Sam paused once more and locked gazes with Dean, his expression exploding in teasing grin. "and the singular most **_girly_** thing I have ever heard anyone in the history of dudes say!" He laughed hard and Dean rolled his eyes.

 

"Fine!" Dean reached to grab Sam. "No more kissing or anything else for you tonight."

 

"Aww Dean!" Sam pleaded through his giggles. "Don't be that way. Come on! I had to say that."

 

"No you didn't." Dean declared rolling over onto his side and pushing Sam fully off of him. "But you did, so now live with the consequences."

 

Sam frowned. "C'mon. Not cool. Why get into bed naked unless you're hot for me?" Sam moved slightly in order to press his chest against Dean's back. Touching Dean's shoulder Sam had his hand batted away and he elected to change tactics, his laughter vanishing.  "You want to take care of me like always. I get that, De; but you also have to see that I'm not a baby anymore. I'm not, and I want to have sex with you. I'm tired of pretending that I'm not in love with you, and there's no way that you could ever feel the same for me. Please, Dean?" Sam rested his hand upon Dean's shoulder and tugged gently to roll Dean more onto his back. "Aren't you tired of pretending too?"

 

He was. God help him he was exhausted from the effort of holding Sam at arms length. His heart ached constantly, he was jealous whenever anyone touched Sam in any manner that was the least bit sexual, and he was terrified that any girl his brother spoke to was 'special' and would steal Sam's attention focus from him. Dean rolled fully over onto his back and pulled Sam on top of him, and stroked Sam's hair back from his beautiful features.

 

"No matter what happens between us now, Sammy: I want you to promise me you'll always be my Baby Boy. Can you do that?"

 

Sam's fingers curled a little against the warm flesh of Dean's chest, a sweet smile slowly spreading across his lips.  "I swear." He nearly whispered in immediate response. "I'm yours. No one else's; _ever_."  Sam found it a little difficult to swallow around the emotion lodging itself within his throat, and saw the same mirrored within Dean's expression. He leaned down and pressed his lips to his older brother’s, and as the kiss threatened to overwhelm him, he held fast to Dean's chest.

 

It was alright. Both of them would survive this and be all the better for it. Sam let go, opening his body fully for his brother; and Dean dove in head first without any hesitation.  They needed this and it was time to surrender fully.  When the kiss finally severed, Dean huskily whispered to Sam to get the bottle of lubricant and Sam leapt eagerly into action.  When he returned to the mattress, Sam stripped out of his underwear and lay down beside his brother.

 

They began kissing once more, and Dean stroked a hand gently down Sam's throat to his chest, fingers lightly touching his nipples experimentally to see if it pleased Sam. Sam gasped and gave a little shiver as he touched Dean's face, and nodded slightly to indicate his permission. Dean dropped his head to Sam's chest and began placing gentle kisses upon the expanse of flesh, tongue teasing at the pert peeks of Sam's nipples. Sam arched towards the contact, his breathing shifting immediately; he felt like he could parish if Dean continued, and dissolve just as quickly if his brother dared stop. Sex was indeed confusing, but it was awesome and Sam was overly anxious to share it with Dean.

 

By the time that Dean's mouth reached his pelvic region, Sam was ready to ejaculate screaming Dean's name into the night. But that would bring trouble, so Sam concentrated on feeling the sensations wracking his body, even out his breathing, and keeping his noises to a minimum volume. It was more difficult than he first anticipated, and he wondered what it would be like to just let go and sing his pleasure to the air. Dean's own moans were deeply seeded within his chest but quiet. They sent shivers down Sam's spinal column, and he arched towards all contact with Dean.

 

Sam nearly choked as he felt Dean's warm palm close ever so softly around his erect cock. He fully expected to feel the inferno of Dean's mouth around it seconds later, but was surprised when all Dean did was drop his thumb down to stroke gently over his balls. Sam raised his head to watch Dean and was about to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing by not giving him his first ever blow job, but his head fell back to the pillow and he gasped; feeling the fingers of Dean's opposite hand part his ass cheeks.  The instant the warm, slick, tip of Dean's tongue touched his puckered rectum, Sam lost all ability to think, to breathe, to do anything but bow his muscles taught and soundlessly cry out for oxygen to inflate his aching lungs.

 

Sam's mind exploded in a kaleidoscope of sensation and emotions he could not comprehend, as Dean's tongue worked it's magic upon his hole. Sam's spine crashed back down against the mattress, and both of his hands fisted in the hair that spiked upward on the top of Dean's skull. Sam's thighs slammed closed around Dean's head, as he gasped in desire and inarticulate instruction. Dean chuckled deeply and pushed at one of Sam's inner thighs in indication and Sam obeyed, splaying his legs open.

 

Sam's heartbeat thundered within his chest as his lungs filled with oxygen. Is this what every girl Dean had ever fucked felt like? Wanton, helpless, anxious, and sluty?  Dean was a god with his tongue, and it wasn't long before Sam felt the probing stab of the appendage jab his inner ring of muscle.

 

"De-" Sam gasped, elongating his brother's shortened name. "Fuck... I need you. I can't, I can't-" Sam groaned, and felt one of Dean's hands grope up in the direction of his face. Fingertips touched his lips and Sam kissed them, seizing his brother's wrist to hold him at his mouth.  "So good, Dean..."

 

"Shh." Dean raised his head from between Sam's thighs. "C'mon, Baby Boy." His voice was like moonshine infused molasses and went straight up Sam's spine to muddle his thoughts.  "Gotta quiet down a little. Can you do that?"

 

Sam arched up and suckled on a few of Dean's fingers. "Need you." he breathed tugging on Dean's arm. "Please?"

 

Dean moved up the bed, gently pulling his wrist from Sam's grip. Their mouths sealed and Sam pressed his thighs against Dean's hips, and wrapped his arms around his brother's neck. His hips thrust upward in indication, and Dean knew that if he didn't work Sam open with his fingers right now, his brother was going to explode.

 

"It's okay." Dean soothed hovering just above Sam's lips. "I've got you Baby Boy. You're so good for me. Just keep your legs open and I'll handle the rest. Okay?"

 

Sam grunted some type of affirmative response and chased after Dean's lips for another mind muddling kiss. Simple instructions were all he could now follow, any complicated sentences were beyond him, and he couldn't even verbally reciprocate. He nodded dumbly, and heard the lid of the lubrication bottle snap open. Within seconds he felt the jarring cold of one of Dean's coated fingers stroking in a circle around his entrance. Sam gasped, and Dean's mouth devoured his as he breached Sam with a finger.

 

It wasn't enough. While Sam's body automatically clenched around the intrusion, it did little to satisfy his emptiness. Sam relaxed as best as he could, feeling Dean work his finger around inside of him. He grunted and broke their kiss and ran his hands down Dean's shoulders to his back.

 

"What's the matter, Sammy?" Dean inquired, the expression upon his brother's face worrying him that he had injured Sam somehow.

 

"I don't like it." Sam's frown twisted, and the finger inside of him retreated out as Dean jerked his hand away, features dropping immediately to apology. "No," Sam soothed smiling tenderly. "Dean, I'm okay. I just meant- I don't like.... I don't like just the one finger. It's... not enough?" The last two words raised in a questioning manner, and Dean forced himself to relax and took a few deep breaths to center himself.

 

He blinked a few times and arched an eye brow at Sam. "Are you telling me that you can't _feel_ it?"

 

Sam shook his head, feeling a little sheepish but no shame. "I'm telling you that two would be better. Or three. I don't know, Dean. I've never done this before but one is just..." Sam allowed the words to flow into silence as he sneered and shrugged his shoulders.

 

Dean chuckled softly and kissed him, before nuzzling up a cheek to whisper in Sam's ear, "Okay Baby Boy, let's see if you like this a little better."

 

Sam gasped, his voice tremulous as he was breached slowly by two fingers. He moaned and rubbed his cheek against his brother's, and whispered Dean's name. As Dean began to scissor and twist the digits within Sam's tight channel, it became absolutely apparent that two was the solution to Sam's dilemma.  Dean raised his head to seek Sam's mouth, and they began kissing once more. Dean continued to work his fingers in and out of Sam, until he could feel his little brother apply pressure with his legs on the back of Dean's thighs, in hopes of pushing Dean deeper inside of him. Within seconds he added a third digit, and Sam broke their kiss gasping like he was taking his first breath ever. He moaned, and Dean felt his stomach drop as Sam's hips canted up against his own.

 

"S'good." Sam hissed, opening his eyes and locking them with Dean's.

 

Dean's smile was confident, and he groped for the bottle of lube with the hand he had been stroking through Sam's dark hair.  "Just give me a second. You're about to get your world rocked Dean Winchester style."

 

Sam's bark of laughter elicited a chortle of Dean's own, and Sam shook his head. "Please tell me you don't say that to the girls you fuck, because that's- that's just _retarded_."

 

"Oh yeah?" Dean teased, a little breathlessly as he pulled his fingers out of Sam's rectum and squirted some more lubrication gel onto that hand. He quickly fisted his cock and applied the lube to it.  "Let's see how you feel after I'm pushing at the back of your throat from your ass." There was no spark of fear or trepidation within Sam's gaze, only unadulterated lust. It was quite clear to Dean that his little brother knew what he wanted, even if he had no clue how it was going to physically feel.

 

"Go ahead." Sam challenged mutedly. There was no reason to speak louder than just above a whisper. The devastation it caused across Dean's features, was more than just palpable and Sam smirked at him.  He was waiting, and Dean was ready to service him fully. Sam knew that Dean was going to give something to him that he never surrendered to any girl he had ever been with; Dean was going to give himself completely, and utterly to Sam. This was not a game between them, something small, this was everything; and Sam would be damned if he wasn't ready for it. He had been born merely to fulfill this moment in time, and all that Dean had done before with others sexually, now meant nothing.

 

Dean swallowed, and slowly guided the leaking head of his shaft to Sam's hole, and locked gazes with his little brother.  "At first it's gonna feel weird; not really painful, but strange. You'll try to fight me but don't. Just do what you can to relax, and I'll do the rest. Okay, Baby Boy?"

 

Sam nodded. "I trust you." And he did; with his life and Dean knew it.

 

They smiled at one another as Dean slowly pushed forward and breached Sam's entrance, drawing a gasp out of them both.  Sam had never experienced something as intense as the vulnerability of the soul, he felt once Dean pushed into him.  He had been ready for the physical discomfort but in no way had been prepared for the emotional Armageddon that seized his heart; and soul; unapologetically.  How could anyone survive being torn apart at the cellular level, and then fused back together with the pieces of another person within them? Granted, the person he was reforming with was Dean, but this changed everything for them. They were different; their relationship was irrevocably altered; and there would be no going back ever to what was before this moment.

 

Sam was silent as Dean's cock filled him, and abruptly went still as the discomfort vanished and was replaced by the sensation of complete contentment. Dean was as completely sheathed within his little brother, and he took a shaky breath locking his gaze with Sam's lust unfocused one.

 

"You okay, Sammy?"

 

Sam nodded and exhaled a, "Yeah," before clenching his fingers in Dean's shoulder blades.  "What happens now?"

 

Dean was deeply touched by his brother's question. "I fuck you." He gulped, and wiped his lubrication damp hand upon the bottom sheet, before resting his palm on Sam's side. The opposite hand cradled one of Sam's cheeks, the thumb stroking up his cheek bone.  "You ready for that?"

 

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "Please?"

 

Not requiring to be further cajoled, Dean began to thrust his hips tentatively, allowing Sam to adjust to the new sensations assaulting him. Their breathing synchronized, and their hips coordinated movement against one another. It was only seconds before their breaths gave way to huffs of exertion and moans escaped their throats. Dean kissed Sam aggressively, and then moved his caressing to his younger sibling's throat as he snapped his hips hard against Sam's ass cheeks.

 

"God, Dean!" Sam rasped tightening his thighs around his older brother.  "I want this forever."

 

Dean certainly could see the allure of such a prospect, but he was a little too focused to answer random declarations from his little brother at the moment. He was far too concentrated on bringing Sam to the pinnacle of pleasure as impressively as he could. He was calling upon all his previous experiences to keep to his word of 'rocking Sam's world'. He wanted Sam to be so sated that he would be completely addicted to Dean. He couldn't imagine not ever doing this with Sam again. He didn't want Sam to even look at another guy, or any girl; because what he could get from Dean was more than anyone else could ever grant him.

 

Dean felt his flesh prickle with perspiration, and his balls rising as his impending orgasm formed in the base of his spine. He didn't want to come yet, he needed to convince Sam that he belonged to Dean now and forever; no matter who passed through their lives from now on. The sounds that Sam was emitting certainly hinted to his unwitting acquiescence to Dean's will, but Dean had to be certain.

 

"Here, Sammy," Dean stated hooking the thumb of one hand back behind Sam's knee, palm pressing the leg back in the direction of Sam's heaving chest. "Legs back like that." Sam obeyed, and cried out almost too loud at the change in position. It drew Dean further into him, and abruptly lined his thrusts up with Sam's prostate. "Yeah Baby Boy. So deep in you, I'll never climb out."

 

Spastically Sam clutched at Dean, and felt his nervous system collapse in electric pulses exploding outward, as he experienced the most intense orgasm he had ever had in his life.  Dean had to cover Sam's mouth with his own to swallow the cries his brother nearly shouted out. He felt every muscle in Sam's body go limp as the channel that gripped his cock like a vice, also began to go slack by degrees the rest of his body wasn't governed by. Dean's own orgasm was building, but it hadn't crested yet and Dean was determined to make the most of it.  Refocusing all of his remaining energy, Dean pounded into Sam's pliant body and stared into his little brother's angelic face.

 

His. No one was ever going to see Sam like this; get to touch him in this manner; feel what it was like to thrust into his ass in wild abandon. Only Dean was allowed into Sam's inner sanctum. Sam's body was his now, just as his soul had belonged to Dean since the day his little brother took his first breath. His possessive thoughts swirling, Dean felt his orgasm crash over them both, and his open mouth made no noise as his lungs seized up within his chest cavity, his body shaking apart and drowning Sam in it's wake.

 

Dean collapsed upon Sam, their foreheads pressed together as they waited for their panting to slow into regulated breaths once more.  Dean slowly opened his eyes and raised his head to look at his brother.

 

"You okay, Baby Boy?"

 

"Better than ever." Sam informed in an exhale. He searched Dean's gaze. "C'n barely keep my eyes open though."

 

"S'all right." Dean assured him, petting Sam's hair gently with a hand. "I'll get off you and we can sleep." By the time Dean had rolled over onto his back beside Sam, his little brother was asleep. Dean regarded his profile and knew that the sticky mess they were coated with, was going to be hell later. He struggled to muster the energy to get up and bring them a wet wash rag from the bathroom. It was a losing battle and Dean's eyes fluttered closed.

 

 _Sammy_...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Dean's eyes snapped open, the sun was up and flowing through the battered screen of the window, warming the bed with it's rays. He judged it to be late morning, maybe around nine and he sniffed and pushed himself up onto his elbows. Dean ran a hand down his face and rubbed his eyes in attempt to clear them of any crusted over mucus that had gathered in the corners of his eyes during the night. The mattress beside him was empty and he frowned. No Sammy. So much for a few kisses and may be oral sex before heading down to breakfast. Disappointed, Dean collapsed back down against the mattress with a sigh. He counted off an entire sixty seconds before rolling over to his side and sitting up.

 

Dean rose and stretched a little, before walking over to the tall boy dresser across from the end of the bed. He opened a drawer to dig for underwear and a clean tee shirt. He pulled both on and grabbed the jeans he had worn the prior day from off of the floor and finished getting dressed. He crossed the hall to the bathroom and relived himself and washed his hands and face prior to feeling awake enough to face the rest of the household downstairs. Bobby was in the library and Sam was with him, fully dressed, awake, and obviously elated to see Dean. He flashed his younger brother a special smile that he reserved only for Sam. He greeted Bobby verbally, and walked over to where Sam sat sprawled in a lone chair and mussed up his dark hair which hadn't seen a comb since the day prior. He moved when Sam shoved him away and headed towards Bobby.

 

"Did I miss anything important?" He grinned and Bobby's gruff expression turned upwards at him.

 

"They say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, so yes; if you count that."

 

"I don't." Dean shook his head before turning in the direction of the kitchen. "But a sandwich wouldn't hurt." Dean glanced at his brother as casually as he could muster. "You want one, Sammy?"

 

"No." Sam responded, his attention more focused on the book than Dean's inquiry. "I already ate."

 

Once Dean had made and consumed his breakfast, he went upstairs to brush his teeth, put on deodorant, and get a pair of socks and his boots on. Finishing with them both, he returned downstairs.

 

"Headin' out to the yard?" Bobby asked, knowing fully well what Dean's destination was. When Dean answered in the affirmative Bobby dismissed him with a flippant wave of his hand. "Fix the ford if you can and we'll see you at lunch."

 

"Yeah, yeah." Dean bantered back, letting the screen door slam on the frame as it closed behind him. He left the front door itself wide open.

 

"Jerk." Was Sam's response to his older brother's seemingly indifferent, teenage attitude. There were several seconds of silence while he continued reading, before he abruptly became aware of the weight of Bobby's gaze upon him. Sam raised his head and looked at the older male seated behind his desk. The expression on his face was far more displeased than normal. Sam started to worry as Bobby's expression immediately softened.

 

"Sam, I need to ask you something. And it’s kind of important. Can you come sit by me for a minute?" Bobby reached out and grabbed a leg of the wooden dining chair a few meters away from him, and pulled it closer to his desk chair. He turned the chair more or less to face him, and patted the seat of it in indication.

 

Cautiously Sam rose, put the book he had been reading down on the plush chair, before crossing the distance to where Bobby waited for him. Slowly he sat down and for several seconds neither one of them said anything to each other.

 

"Balls." Bobby cursed softly. "This was so much easier in my head, but now it feels like I'm trying to shove a camel into a light socket." Bobby paused and sighed softly, managing to meet Sam's worried gaze.  "You know that you and your brother are like sons to me. I love you both like the dickens, but sometimes- well, I have to remind myself that you and your brother weren't brought up the way most kids are these days." Sam shifted in his seat, his heart beat ramping up and his shoulders hunched forward making him appear smaller than he truly was.

 

Bobby smiled kindly at him, and placed a hand on Sam's right shoulder.  "I'm not upset with you, Sam. You're not in any trouble, so there's no reason for you to be afraid. All I need is for you to be honest with me. Can you do that, son?" Sam nodded, not trusting his voice and Bobby withdrew his hand after patting Sam's shoulder once more.

 

Bobby silently steeled himself and held Sam's gaze. His voice dropped to a quiet tone as he asked, "Has Dean ever touched you in a way that made you feel, well, _uncomfortable_?"

 

This was not happening. Sam's mouth dropped open, and his eyes grew wide.  Bobby knew! He must have heard them, and now he thought that Dean was molesting him.  Sam immediately and violently shook his head in response.

 

"No! Bobby, it isn't- it isn't like that. I swear! Dean's _never_ hurt me in his life! Not on purpose, honest!"

 

Concern besmirched Bobby's expression, and he wasn't entirely certain that Sam's claims weren't false. He held up his hands to indicate he would not push the topic much further.  "It's okay, Sam. I hear what you're sayin', I do." Bobby lowered his hands to his lap and attempted to smile at Sam once more, but the gesture came off as rubbery and not completely sincere.  "If he's not hurting you, then what is he doing?"

 

Sam gulped and parroted, "D-doing?" The wheels of his mind spun, smoking on their spindles and Sam reached out with a hand to grab at Bobby's bare forearm. It was imperative that he make their surrogate father understand what he himself was hard pressed to explain.  "He loves me, Bobby and I love him. We're not doing anything wrong, and he's not hurting me. He's my **everything** , and I've been dreaming about being completely his since I was nine years old."  Sam pulled his lips into his mouth for a brief pause and felt a flush wash hot over his cheeks, throat and even the tips of his ears.  "Please Bobby; don't punish us for being in love.  We're not hurting anyone and I know Dad would kill us for it, but I can't **_not_** want Dean. We're soulmates!"

 

Sam's gaze shown bright with fear, and Bobby felt his chest grow heavy with dread.  "Okay son, I understand." He didn't; not entirely; but he knew that Sam was freaking out over the possibility of Bobby separating them for the remainder of the summer. It would be so easy for him to call John and have Dean rendezvous with him on the remainder of his summer hunts.  He could clearly see that was what Sam feared most and not anything Dean was doing to him.  Bobby patted Sam's hand comfortingly. and schooled his expression to be less judgmental.  "Normally I'm a live and let live kind of man, but your father put you in my care for a few weeks; and I'd be failing you both if I didn't ask."

 

Sam's fingers clinched upon Bobby's skin.  "So, we- we can be together here like we want? You're not going to make us stop?"

 

Bobby frowned. "What good would telling you both that do?" He asked with a sad shake of his head. "Dean's nearly eighteen and you're one of the strongest willed people I've ever met. As long as you're discrete about the entire thing, then why should I stop ya?"

 

Sam launched himself out of the chair and threw his arms around Bobby's neck, hugging the man tightly. Surprised, Bobby let out a huff that sounded something like 'oof', before he returned Sam's embrace and patted him on the back.

 

"Bobby, thank you, oh thank you! I swear we'll be good." He pulled back from him, pushing the chair he had been sitting in back in his haste.  "I need to tell Dean. I'll be right back, okay?"

 

Bobby had no time to comment on Sam's plans and watched the boy race out of the house slamming the screen door in his wake.  Bobby sighed and opened a top drawer of the desk and pulled out a bourbon bottle. He uncapped the bottle and poured some of the amber liquid into a tumbler that had been there since the previous night. He took a swig of alcohol and shook his head.  While he was currently a hero in Sam's eyes, he was still going to have to have a similar conversation with Dean. He seriously doubted that by the end of it the older Winchester boy would feel very much like hugging him as Sam just had.

 

Dean scrapped his arm on the underside of the Ford nearly opening his flesh. He rolled out from underneath the vehicle carriage, as the keening insistence of Sam's yelling reached his ears. What the hell was going on? Bobby's was more or less a safe zone and Dean reached for the bowie knife hidden in one of the tool drawers, while Sam's feet pounded on the dirt as he rounded a corner of cars. Hunter instincts on red alert. Dean assessed Sam's features and body language. confused by it more than relieved. He raised his hand holding the knife higher as Sam slammed into his chest, arms encircling him in a fierce hug.

 

"Dean!" Sam panted rubbing his face upon Dean's tee shirted chest, before gazing up into his eyes. "Guess what?" He didn't pause for a breath let alone for the opportunity for Dean to speak. "Bobby heard us last night. He says it's okay! That he's not gonna tell Dad, and we can be together still. Isn't that great! We don't have to lie to him at all!"

 

Dean felt like his heart was abruptly pushing ice water through his veins. This was not good. How Sam could look at it as a positive was beyond logic. Dean's shoulders fell, as he realized he and Sam were truly cursed. The first moment he was happy, truly so; and that they had professed their love for one another and actually done something about it, now they were exposed? Seriously? They couldn't enjoy their union for one damned second before chaos erupted around them and threatened to ruin everything? Dean's hand clenched around the knife hilt as Sam's joy began to dissipate.

 

"Dean?"

 

"Jesus, Sammy!" Dean exhaled tossing the knife back in the tool drawer. He would put it in it's leather sheath later. He gently took Sam by the arms. "He knows? What did he say to you exactly?"

 

Sam shrugged. "I told him that we're in love and he said as long as we're discrete he's not going to say anything to us about it."

 

"So _you_ brought it up?"

 

"No!" Sam retaliated, slightly offended by Dean's implication. "He asked me if everything was okay between you and I because- Well, he obviously heard us, and was concerned that maybe you'd forced me or someth-"

 

" ** _FORCED_** you???" Dean demanded, in devastated disbelief. Great, now his mentor and surrogate father believed him to be a pedophile. Dean groaned and rubbed a palm over his eyes. "Oh god Sam, this is bad. Really, really bad!"

 

"No, it isn't." Sam assured him, reaching up and pulling Dean's hand away from his face. "You're not hearing the bottom line, Dean. Bobby knows, and he's not gonna tell Dad or stop us. How is that not a _good_ thing?"

 

Dean gaped at his brother incredulously. " _How is that not a good thing_?" He demanded in response. "Sam, do you even know how monumentally fucked up we are to even be having this conversation in the first place? Can you even understand that if Dad ever found out, he'd literally take my head off my shoulders?" Dean grabbed Sam by the upper arms once more. "Sammy, if Bobby decides he wants to put a stop to us and says one word to anyone- best case scenario you're the innocent victim that needs a rest in a mental hospital for a few months until you can quit saying out loud that you love me. And if I'm not dead by Dad's hands, I'm banished from ever seeing you again and a marked man. No Hunter is ever gonna work with me again, and to go out on my own is suicide. Don't you get that? I'd lose you, the family, hunting,  EVERYTHING and all because it was my fault I touched you!"

 

Dean's words stung like slaps to his face, and Sam's expression collapsed into misery. His eyes misted slightly, and Sam shook his head as he clutched at Dean's forearms with his hands.  "He won't tell on us, Dean. Please, he would never do that to us. Just, just talk to him. It's going to be okay. I promise."

 

"You can't promise that." Dean retorted, as pain swirled within his words. "Sammy, you shouldn't have said anything. Just denied everything-"

 

"And then what exactly?" Sam demanded, his expression now pinched in anger. "Let him draw his own conclusions? If I had denied, and anything he heard last night, he would have automatically assumed you were hurting me. But you're not, Dean! You love me and I love you. That isn't wrong. It will never be wrong no matter what Dad, or Bobby, or anyone else _EVER_ thinks!"

 

"Sam," Dean began wishing he too could believe as his younger brother did. If only it were that simple as declaring their love, that all else would fail to affect them. The world was an opinionated and harsh place to live, and Life was more likely to kick a man in the testicles than grant him a break.

 

"No!" Sam refused yanking himself free of Dean's grip. "Don't you dare give up. Just because Bobby knows; don't you dare run. This is too important, Dean! You need to fight for us, you need to stand by my side and not give into what anyone else thinks about us! Promise me, promise me you'll fight!"

 

Dean reached out for his little brother, but Sam took a step back placing himself just out of reach. He then dug his feet in and stood his ground, gaze narrowed and expression daring Dean to surrender, instead of supporting his little brother's declaration. Dean placed his hands on his hips and severed eye contact for a split second. He felt Sam physically react to that, shoulders slumping and spine curving downward. Tears swam in Sam's beautiful eyes.  Dean shifted his gaze back and felt like he had just kicked a new born puppy away from it's mother's teat. How could he hurt Sam like this without even saying one word? Why were they fucking cursed in the first place?

 

"I'll talk to Bobby." The words surprised Sam but shocked Dean even more. He didn't want to talk to Bobby. He wanted to go back to when he was going to walk out of the house so that he could stop and take Sam with him. "I'll explain everything to him. Okay?"

 

Sam stared his older brother dead in the face as the seconds stretched on a little uncomfortably. "So you're promising me?"

 

Damn it; Sammy wasn't going to accept any response that wasn't a vow: so be it. Dean took a visible deep breath and nodded. "I promise to fight for us." What else could he say really? He wanted Sam, he wanted what they had become to one another, more than he could remember ever wanting anything in his life. If there was the slightest chance that Bobby would accept the situation at face value, then Sam was right; Dean was beholden to state his intentions.

 

Sam's shoulders visibly relaxed and he embraced Dean once more. "I love you, Dean."

 

"I know." Dean chided gently, stroking a hand down the back of Sam's head. He loved the feel of his younger sibling's hair beneath his palm. He placed a kiss upon Sam's forehead and their embrace ended. "Let me finish up here first," He motioned to the car engine. "And I'll talk to him at lunch."

 

Easily Sam accepted this and motioned to the Impala. "Can I help?"

 

Dean couldn't help but beam with pride and gratitude at Sam, his eyes shinning brightly in the midmorning sunlight. "Yeah; absolutely. How else you gonna learn to care for her?"

 

Sammy returned his brother's smile. "Teach me." He urged of more than just the basics of automobile maintenance, and Dean couldn't help but feel his skin warm at Sam's words.

 

"Nasty little boy." He chuffed beneath his breath before motioning to the engine. "Basics first."

 

By the time early afternoon rolled around both teens were sun kissed and starving. It wasn't just hunger that rolled through Dean's stomach but the tight pang of anticipation. He had made a promise to Sam, and now he wished he postpone the exchange until he was certain of how to broach the subject at all with his surrogate father figure. Sam was a kid and therefore had more leeway with his behavior, but Dean knew that there was more expected of him as the eldest. Therefore, it was with great trepidation that once the boys were finished consuming two sandwiches and glasses of milk each that Dean approached Bobby in the living room study.

 

Dean rubbed his palms down his thighs and cleared his throat, head bowed forward slightly as he waited for the older male to look up at him. "Uh, Bobby?" Bobby grunted in immediate response and looked at the teen. "Can- can I talk to you for a second?"

 

"This about Sam?"

 

Dean swallowed and quelled the temptation to lie. "Yeah. And me."  Bobby stared at him for an uncomfortable beat, and crooked a finger at him indication. Dean moved to stand directly before the desk, thankful for the wood table separating them. Dean took a breath and wondered when in the hell his mouth had become so dry, and his tongue had grown three sizes too big for his mouth. Deciding it best to not look at Bobby when he next spoke, Dean lowered his gaze to the cluttered desk surface. "He told me about your conversation and..." Dean hesitated, shoving both of his hands into the pockets of his well worn jeans. "I would never hurt Sammy." Dean rose his stare along with his conviction, and held Bobby's gaze firmly. "I can't justify what he and I have, but I would never, **ever** force him. You have to know that. He's the most important everything I have, and I would give my life for him; no hesitation; and I would kill anyone or anything that comes at him."

 

"Dean-"

 

"So whatever you think, it's fine. I can live with that. Just don't ever believe for a second that I don't love Sammy more than life itself or would ever-"

 

"Stop." Bobby interrupted holding up a placating palm. "I just have one thing to say, and then as far as I'm concerned this subject is closed." Bobby lowered his hand and leaned forward in the chair using the pause in the exchange to gather his words. "Sam isn't like you or I. When he feels things, it runs to the bone. So I want you to think long and hard; I want you to be honest with yourself before you go telling him sweet sentiments or voicing any doubts you ever have about the two of you." Bobby could see that his words were having an effect on Dean and he lowered the volume of his voice to ensure that only Dean heard the next words.  "You break that boy's heart because you let the outside world get up under your skin, I will make certain you have no skin directly after. Understood?"

 

"Yes sir." Dean more exhaled than stated. He swallowed and retreated quickly away from the weight of Bobby's gaze. He turned to the screen door and exited back out into the summer sun glad to feel the heat after the ice prickling his flesh. Seconds later the door banged shut behind him and he felt Sam at his elbow as they walked towards the garage area of the property.

 

"Dean?"

 

"It's fine, Sammy." he assured with more conviction than he felt fluttering against his rib cage like panicked birds. "Just like you said, he knows and it's okay."

 

"So what did he say to you?"

 

Dean slung an arm around Sam's shoulders, forcing the ease of the action to translate even though he didn't feel it yet. "Just the regular, 'hurt my kid and I'll make your life a living hell'." He continued to stare straight ahead as they walked.

 

"Yeah but-"

 

"Sam!" Dean said a little more sharply than he wanted to. "Can we just please enjoy the victory? Huh? Just this once?"

 

"Yeah, De. Sure." Sam's arm slipped around Dean's waist and he tried to silence the feeling of apprehension swelling inside of him.


End file.
